New and Improved: Post-Op Ilsa

[ooeeooahah]

[ Forward dated to after the patient release on the morning of 31 January. ]

[ She was routed out of her hiding spot in the supply room linen closet to be shoved out of the doors of the factory with the rest of the patients, this morning. Ilsa's change is apparent immediately. Instead of sticking around to help organize everyone getting back to their assigned houses - she runs. ]

[ Quickly as she can, she’s darted for the scant cover around the factory, making her way to town. Those looking for her at 1490 Kramden Road are going to be disappointed, though. She’s told everyone new that she’s met how to get there, and she doesn’t trust the safety of the location any longer. ]

[ Over the next few days, you may catch a glimpse of her, hiding in the shadows around town. She’s somehow managed to obtain a more practical Mayfield-standard outfit from somewhere, but she does not appear for long. ]

[ Maybe you see a glimpse of her in the alley behind your workplace, or catch her just as she’s leaving your garage, where she slept in your car last night (It’s still January, you know.) Do you give chase? Do you try to reason with her? Do you try to catch her? ]

[ OOC: Ilsa has some personality changes and has not lost any of her abilities. There might be a chance she can logically think about the changes Dr Johnson has made, and reject them - but with the level of fear and paranoia she’s experiencing, it is not likely. Cornering her will likely cause her to lash out, and she still has some combative skills and spells. ]

Comments

[nyanpire]

[As the days passed, it was becoming more and more obvious to Nyanpire that things were really really really really REALLY bad here in Mayfield. It was gonna put him off blood forever, if it kept up. And his friends. HIS FRIENDS. He had to CHECK ON THEM.

So for the umpteenth time today, he's prowling around the windowsills of Ilsa's house, tap-pawing at the glass and mewling and trying to catch a glimpse of her.]

Ilsa! Ilsaaaaaaa! Nyaa, Ilsa, where are you?!

[ooeeooahah]

[ Ilsa is not here, and from the lack of her scent around the doors and windows, she hasn't been for almost two days. ]

[nyanpire]

[This is discouraging. He can't smell Ilsa at all, almost. He's just gonna have to keep looking. It was important that he be sure that she's alright.

So employing a somewhat-effective combination of his brains and his nose, he starts to sniff his way down the street. Didn't Ilsa have a job she went to? Better sniff towards where the jobs were.]

[ooeeooahah]

[ The strongest traces of Ilsa he gets aren't on the streets downtown, but once he hits the alleyways, there's a stronger scent. Problem is, there's an overlay of human fear pheromones in the mix. ]

[ He finds her hiding in the dumpster behind the law office, frantically sorting through the papers. ]

...she has to be here... where did she come from?

[nyanpire]

[It winds up being one heck of a search, and his little paws are pretty tired by the end of it, but... Ilsa! He has found Ilsa!]

Nyaa! Ilsa! There you are!

[He's delighted, and he just about skips over. But he stops, and approaches a little more slowly. She smells scared. He's never smelled a scared Ilsa before, and that's weird...]

...nyaa, are you alright?

[ooeeooahah]

EEEIIIIAGH!

[ Ilsa scrambles to the corner of the dumpster, eyes wide with fear. Hyperventilating, she is able to stammer. ]

N-Nyanpire... I c-can't...

[ She's shaking, and looks like she's about to cry. ]

Th-they did... did something. I c-c-can't... trust...

[nyanpire]

....nyaa?

[This wasn't supposed to be happening at all. Ilsa was confident and smart and motherly and, and she never smelled as scared as this. He cringes backwards, settling himself into an unsure crouch.]

It's okay, Ilsa! I'm just Nyanpire! I'm nyot gonnya hurt you...

...they? Who? Who's they?

[ooeeooahah]

[ Ilsa settles, just a little, as he backs off. ]

Surgery. I-I can't see everyone the w-way I used to. You... you promise you aren't going to kill me?

[nyanpire]

Kill you? [His ears droop, and he looks about as horrified as a kitten can.]

Nyever! Nyot anyone, especially nyot you!

[He rises slowly, then takes a few creeping steps closer.]

....surgery? [That was what doctors did. He saw it on TV.] Were you sick?

[hardhat_truckie]

[Huh? Who was that? Engie turns around and looks at the alley, scratching his head in confusion. He could've sworn he saw someone out of the corner of his eye...]

Hello? Anyone there?

[ooeeooahah]

[ Observant people might notice they are, for some reason, *not interested* in the pile of crates midway down the wall, where the sound of a shoe scraping against concrete might have come from. ]

[hardhat_truckie]

[He heard that sound. Alert, he starts to explore the area further. Engie's not the most observant of people, unfortunately.]

[ooeeooahah]

[ Of course, it doesn't take a very observant person to spot the woman's loafer sticking out from behind the trashcan... with the foot still in it. Give her a break, it's hard foe a nearly-six-foot tall woman to hide in a very small space. ]

[hardhat_truckie]

[Oh, that looks bad. Engie approaches the trashcan carefully.]

H-hey, anyone there?

[ooeeooahah]

[ He finds Ilsa scrabbling to hide some more. She waves her hand at him, but pulls her hand back midway through the gesture. Weird that there was a small flash of light, but it must have been the light reflecting... only there's no jewelry on that hand... ]

N-No! Don't... don't come any closer... please....

[hardhat_truckie]

Doc?

Woah there, calm down! It's me Engie. I ain't gonna do anythin' bad towards ya! Tell me what's wrong? Are ya hurt?

[ooeeooahah]

[ Very frightened, and paler than when she was shot by his sentry. ]

S-s-sorry. I'm not... not quite right.

[velesdonnersen]

[He's trained to pay attention, and he's been waiting in terror for her to arrive. Their link echoed with her fear and distress over the past days. He missed her entry into the garage the first time, but he knew she'd been there. So he's not surprised to sense her approach. He isn't sure where to wait for her, so he leaves the doors of the house all cracked and the lights off so he can slip out to her without being noticed. When he hears her in the garage he makes himself wait. Only when the restless, miserable chitter of her mental link stills does he slide silently out into the garage. He shuts the doors behind him, and chocks them lightly with a wedge of wood: nowhere near enough to serve as a lock, but perhaps just enough to slow her down if she flees.

He's brought a basket with blankets, a pillow, a thermos, and sandwiches.]

[He eases himself over the edge of the car door, settling softly in the driver's seat. He waits.]

[ooeeooahah]

[ She's not been able to sleep where she's registered. The night before, she managed to stay on the property across town long enough to (hopefully) get around the droning. But here is where she feels safest. ]

[ It's a paradox. She's terrified of him, with what Johnson's done to her head. Watching from the shadows, she's seen the evil... but he had warned her off when they met. He hasn't spoken much about his past life, but he's said enough to make her understand his history hasn't been a pretty one. ]

[ She also knew the bond was still there. They had been through so much over the past months, and he has been beside her all this time. Johnson may have taken her courage, but she couldn't take Ilsa's memories. ]

[ She knows when he's nearby, and though terrified, she stays still, waiting for him to tell her why he is going to kill her, trusting her memories to make her fears wrong. ]

[velesdonnersen]

[He's sure she's awake. Her breathing has shifted, and there's a sense of awareness in their link. But he can feel the fear pour off of her. He waits, still, trying to send nothing but love and peace. It's not easy: he's very angry with the people who hurt her. Very, very angry. But not at her...]

It's ok, liebchen. You're safe. I'll even leave, if you want. But I brought food, and drink, and blankets.

Just...

I love you, love. I miss you.

[ooeeooahah]

I-I'm not what I was... but... it's hard.

[ She hasn't moved to leave. Other than shivering, she hasn't moved at all. ]

Remember... when they tried to erase you? You gave me a tell.

[ She whispers: ] Look in the glove-box.

[ Inside is an envelope from the office. It holds an index card with the words Ilsa Loves Tarvek, followed by a double thumbprint heart, in a rusty red. ]

[velesdonnersen]

[He reads the card, and shivers into wounded silence, tears brimming but held back. It takes time before he can simply reach out his hand, open, to hold hers... if she chooses to accept.]

[ooeeooahah]

[ It takes a few moments, but she does put her hand in his. It's shaking, but she is there. ]

Tarvek... if you do have to kill me... I understand.

[velesdonnersen]

No killing, love. Let's... talk. And see what we can fix.

[He's Tarvek, the peculiarly non-murderous spark. And he's a psychiatrist's Prime. He is into constructive answers, not destructive ones.]

How about a cup of coffee? Mine's not as good as yours, but it's drinkable. And a sandwich?

[As he talks his hand curls around hers, warm and gentle.]

[ooeeooahah]

N-no coffee, thanks. I'm wired enough as it is.

[ Ilsa gives a weak chuckle. She's still scared, but leaning less on her abilities, and more on her memories. ]

[ She's also thinner than she was last week, and her stomach growls. ]

...could eat a sandwich, though.